Closure
by Xeldablade
Summary: "Is this a dream?" he thinks to himself again, except this time is able to utilize verbal communication. The Twilight Princess looks at him a long time before she answers. "Would it matter if it was?" Midlink, post-TP. One-shot.
**Hello there, Zelda fandom. Yeesh it's been awhile since I've written, but you know, it's been busy times for me. But I've had people tell me they want more Midlink, so here's a little something I put together real quick. Hope you like it!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own The Legend of Zelda (unfortunately).**

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Link finds himself surrounded by pure whiteness. There are no objects, no sounds, nothing else that surrounds him; just a blank, misty canvas in all directions. He is instantly reminded of his meetings with Hero's Shade, with what seemed to be the illusion that they were among the clouds. Except now, he was entirely alone.

 _Is this a dream?_ he thinks to himself, as he cannot seem to use his voice.

He continues to look around, desperate for an answer. Nothing about this particular scenario makes any sense, but it somehow feels too real to not be. He feels a tingling sensation surge through him, and he looks down to see his own body materializing before him; small pieces of skin forming slowly and growing from the larger whole. Eventually he finds he is able to see his whole body as normal, as perfectly adequate as it always had been.

Another thought pervades his mind in a hazy formation. _Why does it feel as though…I do not exist?_

He stares into the what he can best describe as fog in front of him. Nothing else has changed; nothing else swirls into his line of sight like he feels like it should.

 _Where am I?_

Suddenly, he feels a presence. When he turns this time, he is perplexed. There seems to be a wall of blackness a few feet from where he stands; it stretches into infinity in all directions beyond the white in which he still stands.

He wishes to be on the precise line where the white and black meet, hoping for some kind of clarification. But as he takes a step forward, he makes no progress. He looks behind him to see if there are any changes. There are none.

But when he looks back to the darkness, she is standing there, in the midst of it.

She wears the same clothes that she wore before; though because of the black backdrop, he is only able to make out the gray, blue, and red details, her blue skin and the intricate glowing designs that graced her body, her vivid orange hair, her signature red eyes.

"Is this a dream?" he thinks to himself again, except this time is able to utilize verbal communication.

The Twilight Princess looks at him a long time before she answers. "Would it matter if it was?"

He takes another step forward, but she takes a step back. He remains in the light, and she continues to exist in the dark. The line between them shifts in sync with them, maintaining an equal distance between the two.

He doesn't know what to say. If this were a dream, then would it really matter what he said? Nothing would be real. Anything that was said would make no difference.

He asks her a question anyways. "Why did you leave?"

"You know why."

"No," he insists, "I don't."

She sighs. "It's what was best for your world. For our worlds."

He considers this statement, but dismisses it. "So you were scared our worlds would collide again. That they would be breached, and more chaos would follow. Is that it?"

She says nothing.

"Because if it is, then it's nothing we couldn't handle. Together. We did it once, we could do it again."

She shakes her head. "Severing the connection between us was the only way to fully protect—"

"You're wrong," he says flatly, interrupting her. They stare at each other for what felt like minutes, but easily could have been hours. Time did not seem to exist in this place.

He begins to speak, but his voice cracks on the first word. After breaking eye contact in an attempt to regain composure, he says roughly, "You didn't even say goodbye."

When he looks at her again, her eyes seem wet and she's biting her lip. "It would have been too hard."

Link scoffs. "Yeah, but you still managed to tell me 'see you later'. But I think you were lying, maybe without you even realizing it."

"We're seeing each other now!"

"Midna, I don't even think this is _real_."

She didn't respond, and he could tell she was thinking the exact same thing. Midna always had something to say; she tended to be very opinionated. The fact that she wasn't speaking much now made him doubt if this was really her at all, perhaps even an extension of this complex illusion.

But still, he felt compelled to ask her something. He thought about the moments just before she shattered the mirror. What exactly she had said. Before she told him she'd see him later. She expressed an incomplete thought, something she had wanted to tell him, but couldn't…

He figured now may be the only chance he could ever ask her.

"Do you love me?"

The question does not seem to catch her off guard, but she does not answer immediately, regardless. She grabs her arms in either hand and rubs them comfortingly, as if trying to keep herself warm. It does nothing to prevent the sobs that threaten to escape her throat.

"I don't know."

He didn't know what answer he was expecting, but he wasn't really expecting that. She was always a decisive and direct person; either a strict yes or no was her forte. He felt his head drop.

"…But I could."

His ears perk up as he looks at her once again. She had said it so quietly, he wasn't sure if he'd just imagined it until she starts speaking again.

" _Goddess_ , I could." She shivers. "You have no idea how easy it is to fall in love with you, Link."

His brow furrows. "Is that what you're afraid of? Falling in love with me?"

She thinks for a moment. "I'm afraid of a lot of things, Link, despite what I may lead you to believe. Not all of us have the kind courage that you do."

He had no idea what she was talking about; his heart was beating frantically in his chest, and he was pretty sure he was sweating profusely, but chose to ignore it. Her confession somehow made him so nervous that, even in this ethereal state, he could hardly function.

He looked at his skin, and noticed he was slightly translucent; he was disappearing, and evidently, so was she.

"I…suppose we should say goodbye."

She nods slowly and swallows. "I suppose so."

"Would you like to part the same way as we did last time?"

She looks at him longingly, and slowly shakes her head. "I know better than to make the same mistake twice."

As they continue to fade, he sees the desire in her eyes, and notes how it matches his own. He wants to hold her, and to never let go, but is unsure if it would make any difference. He determines that he has nothing to gain from kissing her.

…But he is also no longer looking for anything to gain.

So when he walks towards her, she does not back away.

The black and white merge when their bodies touch, surrounding them in a brilliant gray. His eyes close as soon as they unite. Her skin is cold underneath his roaming hands, desperate to feel her one last time. His lips quickly find hers and they both forget the importance of breathing.

They continue to vanish slowly, but that does not hinder their embrace. They hold each other tightly, and he can feel the wetness of her cheeks against his lips as her tears meld into his own.

"I'll miss you," he says through ragged breaths.

With his own mouth, he feels her smile.

"I know."

 _Same old Midna_ , he thinks as he continues to run his hands over her shaking body. He tries to cherish this moment as long as possible, to memorize the exact length of her arms, the way her hair feels on his skin, the taste of her tongue. He wants to explore the depths of her eyes, one last time.

But when he opens his eyes to look at hers, she is already gone.

He looks up at the stars, realizing that he had fallen asleep outside again. Epona is near him, standing in the spring's shallow water. The sound of water rushing softly against the shore and chirping crickets is relaxing, and threatens to lull him to sleep again.

He is unsure what time it is, but the sky seems to be far from welcoming the sun. He closes his eyes, giving in to the temptation of fatigue, allowing himself to dream once again. Except, he cannot shake the feeling that the experience was entirely unreal.

He can still feel the lingering coldness of her lips on his own.


End file.
